My Heart Stood Still by Lynn Kurland (best book club books of all time .TXT) 📕

All things considered, getting her home had been a very easy thing.

Too easy.

He wondered if this was how men felt walking innocently into a field and subsequently finding out it was full of mines.

One false move and he was toast.

"Shall we go in?" he asked.

She nodded, then started to dismount.

"Wait—" he began, but she had slid down off her horse before he could help her.

"I am able," she said.

He shook his head. "I was just trying to help."

"But you've done so much already."

"It wasn't that much."

She looked up at him but said nothing.

He could see the misery in her eyes, and the indecision.

And in that instant, he understood the predicament he'd put her in. He'd considered it before, briefly, but it hadn't been enough to stop his plans. But now he couldn't ignore it.

There she was, in an alien world with no one to help her but a man who claimed that he loved her and that she had loved him in a different time. A time she had no memory of. Obligated to a man she didn't know.

Hell, what was he supposed to do now?

Solve it later. Yes, that's what he'd do. For the moment, though, what he wanted was a hot shower, dinner, and a good night's rest. Preferably in that order.

"How about a bath, then dinner?" he asked gently.

She looked so desperately out of her element that he found himself acting without thinking. He reached out and gently tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, then smiled gamely.

"Rough day?"

"I fear such will be my lot in this Future of yours," she said with a wince.

"Let's get something to eat and some rest. You'll feel better in the morning."

She only hesitated a moment before she nodded. "Who will see to our animals?"

"Good point," he said, looking around hopefully for a stableboy to materialize. Maybe there was something to be said for fourteenth-century living. Finding no servants lingering about for his pleasure, he tethered their horses to a handy Mercedes side-view mirror, then led Iolanthe into the house.

And who should he see leaning against the sideboard but that proud laird, Ambrose MacLeod.

Thomas smiled broadly. "How are you, my lord?"

Ambrose's smile was just as broad. "I could not feel more myself, lad. And look who you have with you. Our lady, in the flesh."

Thomas looked at Iolanthe to find her staring at him as if he'd lost his mind.

"Who," she managed in a strangled voice, "are you speaking to?"

Thomas blinked. "You can't see him?"

"See who?"

Thomas looked at Ambrose to find the laird frowning thoughtfully.

"No one," Thomas said, turning back to Iolanthe. He smiled. "No one at all. Let's go find Mrs. Pruitt. She's the innkeeper. She'll get you settled."

Iolanthe looked at him skeptically. "More ghosts?"

"Do you really want the answer to that?" .

She looked slightly queasy, so he didn't press the issue. He put his hand under her elbow and started toward the reception desk. As if on cue, Mrs. Pruitt appeared. And when she saw Iolanthe, she nodded in her usual fashion, then looked at Thomas.

"A costume, lad? Rather a fine one, I'd say, but a bit travel-stained. Mayhap ye should get yerself clean before ye dirty up me entryway."

"I have three horses," Thomas began. "I'm not sure—"

"Horses, now?" she said, frowning in displeasure. "Yer gear was no trouble, to be sure, for it went in the shed, but horses?"

"Back garden?" Thomas suggested.

Mrs. Pruitt drew herself up. "Trampling me rosebushes?"

"Fertilizing them," Thomas countered.

Mrs. Pruitt considered, then nodded shortly. "Very well. For the moment, mind ye. I'll ring hereabouts and see if I can find ye a stable for the morrow."

"I'd appreciate it. Now, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, would you mind seeing to Miss MacLeod?"

Mrs. Pruitt waved her away. "Up the stairs, me girl. You know where it is."

Iolanthe looked at her archly. "My good woman, I do not know where anything is in your inn. How would I?"

Mrs. Pruitt blinked, then peered closely at Iolanthe. She approached, looked at her even more closely, then reached out and poked her in the arm with her finger.

Iolanthe gasped.

Mrs. Pruitt gasped.

And then that stout-hearted woman fainted.

Ambrose sighed. Thomas was ignoring him and could only try to rouse Mrs. Pruitt without any aid or comment from Mrs. Pruitt's would-be beau.

"What ails her?" Iolanthe asked.

"Weak constitution," Thomas muttered. He managed to haul Mrs. Pruitt up into a sitting position, then patted her cheeks gently until she came to with a splutter. She looked at Iolanthe with wide eyes.

"Why ... ye're ... um..."

Iolanthe grunted. "Aye, most likely."

"Laird Ambrose said ... but I never expected ..." She looked at Thomas with wide eyes. "Ye were successful, then."

"Yes."

"Ye'll be wantin' a bath," Mrs. Pruitt said, sounding stronger already. She accepted Thomas's help to her feet, then shook her head. "What a disappointment I've been. Falling apart at me post—"

"Don't give it another thought," Thomas said. "This has been a hard day for everyone. You know, what we'd really like is a bath, then maybe some dinner if that wouldn't be too much trouble."

"Not at all," Mrs. Pruitt said. She looked at Iolanthe and took a deep breath. "Might I help ye with a bath, miss?"

"You might," Iolanthe said, rubbing the shoulder where she'd been poked quite enthusiastically. "Though I imagine I can manage to get myself clean enough if water can be fetched."

Mrs. Pruitt seemed to gather her wits about her. "No need to fetch water, miss," she said. "It comes straight into the bath."

"How?"

"Come up, and I'll show ye." She looked Iolanthe over quickly. "No bags? Well, we'll find something for ye. Lady Blythwood is surely yer size. I feel confident she's left things behind that will suit."

Thomas watched Mrs. Pruitt hustle Iolanthe off up the stairs, receiving only a quick look of panic from Iolanthe and an equally brief look of command from Mrs. Pruitt.

"Poor girl," Ambrose said. "You were successful, I see."

"For all the good it will do me. She didn't remember me."

"It was a slim hope that she